


Fever [The Guy Under You Remix]

by Caeseria



Series: Kaboom! [The Work Your Body Till it Hurts Playlist] [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha Keith (Voltron), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Biting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Collars, Consent, If you are not reading this on AO3 then my work has been stolen, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Lance (Voltron), Scenting, Sexual Tension, Stripper Lance (Voltron), Strippers & Strip Clubs, Temperature Play, Top Keith (Voltron), omega biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 09:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caeseria/pseuds/Caeseria
Summary: Lance hadn't expected an alpha like Keith to walk through the door of Club Altea - an alpha so compatible with him that it had set off his heat early.  And now that Lance is alone, feeling those first frantic effects of his heat, there's only one person he wants to share it with.





	Fever [The Guy Under You Remix]

**Author's Note:**

> You don't have to have read the first story in this series to understand what's going on, however, it probably does help a little. Plus you get Lance stripping to Kaboom, but it's up to you....*shrugs* XD. <3
> 
> Warnings for omega biology in this one, guys! 
> 
> This sequel was written entirely to G.U.Y. by Gaga and Hung Up by Madonna :D
> 
> Hope you enjoy! <3
> 
> *If you are not reading this on A03, then my work has been stolen and is being distributed without my permission.*

Keith has a problem. He's about six foot tall and slender, with chestnut hair and sun-kissed skin, and he's currently walking toward him across the parking lot of the local strip joint, Altea. Keith swallows, throat dry, because although his little problem – Blue, real name Lance – is draped in a shapeless green jacket, Keith remembers what he looked like not half an hour ago; wearing tight red boy shorts and black gloves, collar covering his scent glands, writhing in Keith's lap as Keith jerked him off. Shortly before that, Lance had blown Keith like he was gonna die if he didn't get it, and Keith is still running a bit high off that, unable to get the stupid grin off his face. 

Lance seems to notice his grin as he walks toward Keith across the parking lot, beanie in his hand, and he returns Keith's smirk with a devastating smile of his own. Keith can feel a flush crawl across his cheeks, and while Keith wants to blame his reaction on his hormones and Lance's fast-approaching heat, he knows he's gone for this boy, even if they just met.

Keith had offered to drive Lance home, partly because he doesn't trust all the other scumbag alpha's sniffing around and partly because he feels a little responsible for Lance's accelerated heat. He wants to make sure Lance gets home safely, locked behind his apartment door, so he can spend the next day or so enjoying his heat without worry.

Lance stops in front of Keith, barely a foot away. "Thanks for waiting for me." He's almost shy right now, Keith notes. Still self-assured, but quiet, like the calm before the storm. Oh, how Keith wants to see that storm let loose, to stand in the center of the tempest.

"Have you been on a hoverbike before?" Keith asks, gesturing at the monster he's currently leaning against. He'd started the engines while he waited for Lance to change, and now the bike is purring contentedly like a large cat, the fans that levitate the bike ready to engage.

"Nope." Lance pops the p on the end of the word. It's cute as fuck. He looks intrigued though. "Is it safe?"

Keith pushes himself away from where he's leaning on the seat. "In my hands? Very. You just gotta roll with the movement of the bike," he says, swinging a leg over it and settling in, giving the engine a little rev. "Wanna go for a ride?"

Lance nods, his eyes flash with excitement as he pulls his beanie on and settles behind Keith, wriggling around as he gets a feel for the bike and where he should sit. "Not sure I've ever had anything this large between my legs before," Lance comments suggestively, sliding forward until he's pressed against Keith's back from hip to shoulders.

Keith turns his head a little, until he can watch Lance out of the corner of his eye. He revs the bike again and engages the rear fans, and the bike lifts from the ground. He smirks when Lance's eyes widen and he grabs at Keith's waist, panicked for a moment until he realizes Keith isn't going to do stupid shit. 

"You gotta hold on to me," Keith coaches. He's having to talk a little louder than normal over the sound of the engine, but Lance seems to understand just fine. "Put your hands around my waist and hold on. I need you to lean with me into the corners; just follow my lead, okay?"

Lance snakes his hands around Keith's waist and nods. "You know I'll always follow your lead, Kitten," Lance purrs. He winks and _fuck_, Keith is done for again. This boy makes him lightheaded with desire.

In response Keith spins the bike on the spot, making Lance tighten his grip around his waist, and then guns it out of the parking lot, turning left onto the main drag and opening up the bike until they are flying at speed, wind in their hair. Lance lives in the west end of Garrison, what would usually be a two-bus journey, but on the bike it won't take more than ten minutes at this time of night. Keith knows they're pushing the limits on Lance's heat; Lance had said that Keith's come would keep him focused long enough to get home, and so far that seems to be working.

It's working right up until Keith feels Lance's hands slide under his shirt, caressing over the soft skin of his stomach and Keith knows they are on borrowed time. He makes a right turn, bringing the bike down in speed and dropping gears, leaning to the side and feeling Lance start to get the hang of it, staying almost boneless behind him, leaning with him. They straighten out and Keith changes up a gear, fans engaging for a little more height, and as Keith reaches top gear the bike starts to vibrate. Red, as Keith calls her fondly, has a pleasant little vibration at top gear that he could have tuned out when he was fixing her up, but didn't, because not everything needs to be engineered to death. Pidge would kill him for saying that, but sometimes you need to know something is a machine in order to connect to it. If Red didn't have that vibration she wouldn't be Red.

Judging by the way Lance buries his face into the nape of Keith's neck and rubs his cheek across his scent gland, hips ticking forward, Lance quite likes the vibration too. "You okay?" Keith calls back over his shoulder. He feels Lance's lips open against his nape, breathing him in as Lance nods.

Keith reaches back with his hand, resting his palm against Lance's muscled thigh, stroking smoothly up toward his hip. Once he reaches Lance's ass he pulls him closer and leans back, until they are fully pressed against each other, Lance's hips against Keith's ass, pushing forward. Lance is definitely on borrowed time, rocking against Keith as his hands wander under Keith's shirt. "Need you," Lance moans. 

Keith downshifts and the bike lurches, fans kicking back in as he accelerates at the next corner. Lance's fingertips dip beneath the waistband of Keith's jeans, and it's all he can do to concentrate on not crashing the bike and killing both of them. The desert air is chill, and that keeps Keith focused, especially when he can feel how hard Lance is, erection pressing against his lower back, how desperate his voice sounds. Keith risks a glance over his shoulder, and _Jesus_, Lance is a wet dream. Pupils blown large beneath lidded eyes, cheeks flushed, lips red and bitten. The devil on Keith's shoulder, but _oh_, what a devil. More like temptation incarnate, he thinks.

"I got you," Keith soothes, reaching his hand back again to stroke up Lance's outer thigh. "Come on, Lance, you can hold it together a couple of minutes longer, yes? You can be good for me."

Lance lets out a bitten off sound that sounds suspiciously like a whine of frustration. His breath is heavy and hot against Keith's neck. "Want to be good for you," he breathes, nipping at the skin just below Keith's ear. "Not sure I can be, though." Despite his heat, there's a hint of mischief in Lance's voice, and it makes desire pool heavy in Keith's belly, just below where Lance's fingertips are teasing him. Keith is getting hard, and damn, it's distracting.

Lance has almost managed to get his hand all the way down Keith's pants by the time he turns into the parking lot for Lance's complex, and he cuts the engines so the noise won't wake everyone up, gliding in using the leftover momentum and the fans, which turn silently as they keep the bike airborne. He drops the stand and turns off the fans, lets the bike sink slowly before Lance slides off on shaking legs. Keith dismounts, takes one look at Lance and takes him by the hand, thumb rubbing gently over the scent glands on his wrist, soothing him. "I'll see you to the door," he says. Lance is in no shape to get there on his own.

Lance's apartment is part of a complex of smaller buildings, four units to each block with a connecting interior corridor that Lance leads Keith down. He stops outside one unit, placing a hand on the panel at the door. Keith hears it unlock, although Lance doesn't open it. He turns around, leaning back against the door coquettishly, one ankle crossed over the other. He tilts his head to the side, taking in Keith fully. Keith lets him look, flattered that Lance wants to give him that much of his attention.

Finally, Lance says, "Thanks for driving me home and looking out for me."

"Any time." In turn he looks over Lance, noticing the flushed cheeks, the way he trembles just a little. He leans forward and tucks a lock of chestnut hair back behind Lance's ear, not trusting himself – or his alpha side – to do any more than that. "Stay safe, Lance."

Lance ducks forward quickly, placing a chaste kiss on Keith's cheek. He hovers there, breathing against Keith's skin, and then says, "One kiss for the road?"

Keith isn't going to say no to that, hell no. All he has to do is move his head to the side, and Lance's lips are on his, and _oh shit_, how had Keith forgotten in the space of a single half hour how well Lance kisses, how perfectly he fits against Keith's body? Keith slides his arm around Lance's slender waist and pulls him closer, parting his lips when Lance moves to deepen the kiss. Lance keens in the back of his throat when Keith steps forward, crowding Lance against his front door. His alpha preens, senses that their omega is teetering on the edge of surrender. Lance's scent is bright and clear with an addictive, musky undertone that Keith finds irresistible, and strangely, that is what snaps Keith out of his alpha fog. 

He kisses Lance deeply, stroking his fingers down the nape of Lance's neck, beneath his black leather collar. Lance melts into him, and Keith knows he's got to stop _now_. He pulls away a little, placing little apologetic kisses against Lance's lips, chasing his taste. He leans his forehead against Lance's, both of them exchanging breaths now rather than kisses. "I should go," Keith says finally.

Lance nods, trying to regulate his breathing. "My heat has started. I need to – I need – "

"I know," Keith soothes. "Will you call me later to let me know how you are doing?"

Lance nods again, blue eyes flicking up to Keith's, holding contact. "Promise."

"'Kay." 

Keith steps back, but Lance grabs him by the wrist. He turns, pressing Keith's palm to the door panel. "Key for entry," Lance says, voice laced with desire as the panel flashes green for a moment.

Keith's eyes go wide. Lance has just keyed his print to let him into his apartment? Why?

"In case of emergency," Lance says, voice low with promise. Lance gives Keith a wink and a knowing smirk, and there's the self-assured, confident boy that blew Keith's mind (and dick) in the club earlier. He gives Keith a final peck on the cheek. "Good night, Kitten. Thanks again." 

And then he's gone; door shutting behind him, leaving Keith a panting mess of alpha hormones in the corridor. A panting mess who _could_ place his hand on that panel right now and key himself into Lance's apartment, and then spend the next twenty-four hours fucking his omega into bliss. But, if he did that, he'd be no better than the knotheads at the strip club, and the whole point of driving Lance home was to make sure he got home safe. And that includes against himself.

Keith will not succumb to his alpha urges, no. He wants Lance's invitation, and although he's able to enter Lance's apartment, he doesn't have a verbal yes. Not yet.

Keith takes another step back and with a final longing look at Lance's door, turns and walks away.

He can wait for Lance's invitation, and it's going to be so much sweeter when he has it.

* * *

Somehow, Keith gets his ass home, gets a decent six hours sleep, and ends up at the bike shop the next morning, trying to take his mind off thinking about what creative things Lance is doing to himself by tinkering with the problem bike no one else wants to fix. Keith has a very overactive imagination, so consequently, his body is buzzing with low-level arousal – and hasn't really stopped since he dropped Lance off at his apartment late last night.

Male omegas aren't rare, but they are unusual enough for Altea to create an entire revue based around one – namely Lance, or Blue when he goes by his stage name. Keith licks his lips, thinking of how Lance moved to the music last night, working his sinful body, a teasing siren call that Keith, along with most of the other patrons in the club, was powerless against. Shiro had paid Lance to give Keith a lap dance, sure, but Lance had insinuated that regardless of that, Keith had still called to him, and Lance would have answered. Hormonal compatibility: Lance's omega had latched onto Keith's alpha like a bitch approaching heat, and what had followed was the best hour of Keith's life to date. He's never going to forget the way Lance had danced for him in the private room, drawing him in with not only his beautiful body but also his personality, which shone through regardless of the name he worked behind.

Keith bites back a needy sigh, glad everyone else is busy and nobody can hear or see him struggling to keep himself under control. His phone rings and he digs it out of his pocket, glad for the distraction, until he realizes it’s the very person causing his distraction in the first place. Lance.

"Hey," Keith says, keeping it neutral to start, trying to ignore the way his heart rate speeds up, just a little and his stomach flips pleasantly.

"Hey, Kitten," Lance breathes back, and Jesus, Keith is semi-hard, just like that. 

He stands up and starts strolling – in what he hopes is a casual walk – toward his office located in the rear of the shop, between the stacks of parts shelves, and shuts the door behind him. "How're you doing? Heat going okay?" Keith lets out a slow breath, trying to focus as he slides into his chair behind the desk. He moves a rusted fan blade to one side on the desk, and a piece of random exhaust pipe he left there last week, and props his feet up on the edge, crossing his ankles.

There's a moment of silence on Lance's end, and then what sounds like a breathy sigh. "Hmm," Lance replies, and for a moment, Keith isn't sure if that's good or bad. "I'm doing okay," he says finally. "Got myself off after you left and then fell asleep." 

Now that's a hell of an image, Keith thinks. He has to stop himself from asking for details, because last night was only a hook up, a way to blow off steam until they got Lance home. Right? "Do you need anything?" Keith asks, because he's not sure what else he can ask.

Lance lets out a breathy little laugh on the end of the phone. "There's so much you could help me with," he teases.

"Lance…" Keith warns softly. "Comments like that are not helping my level of control." He can feel a growl building in his throat, and he pushes his hand over the front of his jeans, pressing against his erection, which is getting more insistent with every passing moment. He closes his eyes, and listens to Lance's breathing on the other end, becoming more ragged. It takes Keith a moment to figure it out. "Fuck, are you getting yourself off?" he blurts out.

Lance laughs again, then hiccups on a little moan. "Of course I am. You have no idea what your voice does to me, especially when you get that alpha growl in your throat. Makes me want to be a bad boy for you so I can hear it again."

_Jesus fuck_.

"Shit, Lance, you are killing me here." Keith bites his lip and then runs a hand through his hair.

"You could come over and keep me busy later," Lance suggests in that sultry tone.

Later? Is Lance asking Keith what he thinks he is? "Lance?"

"Hmm?" Lance sounds hazy, almost like he's high. Keith read somewhere that omega have intense but short heat cycles; they get off, sleep for a while, and repeat the process until it's over, ending on a crescendo with one rolling wave.

"Lance, are you asking me to come over?" 

He can hear Lance moving on the bed, and then he lets out a sigh. "Keith; I need to tell you something." 

Lance suddenly sounds serious, and Keith sits up, dropping his feet to the floor and leaning forward in his chair, resting one elbow on his desk. "What is it?" 

"I think I miscalculated," Lance says with a sigh. "When I asked you at the club to let me suck your cock, that I needed your come to get me home – I meant it. But I think I've also – Keith, I think I sort of imprinted on you for this heat because of that. My body won't accept anything or anyone else other than you."

Keith raises an eyebrow, and then remembers Lance can't see him. He switches to video, wondering why they hadn't done that from the start. Lance's face appears on Keith's phone: flushed from orgasm, hair tangled, and shit, yeah, his neck bare, with no collar. Keith fixates on all that smooth skin, mouth starting to water at the thought of biting down over his scent glands, _marking_ him for everyone to see.

Lance smirks like he knows _exactly_ what Keith is imagining. "Keith, focus."

Keith blinks and flushes. "Yeah, sorry. Alpha thing. I'm being a fucking caveman, ignore me."

"Oh, I don't know. I like seeing you wrecked like this, Kitten. It's a good look on you."

Keith can't stop the whine in the back of his throat. "Okay." He takes a deep breath. Focus. _Focusfocus_. "So, you said we were really compatible before, in the club? Is this to do with that?"

"Maybe. Probably." Lance looks down and then back up, meeting Keith's eyes. "I need you, Keith. My omega isn't happy you aren't here. _I'm_ not happy that you aren't here. Will you share the remainder of my heat with me as my alpha?"

Keith doesn't even think about it for a moment. He craves Lance like a thirsty man needs water. He wants this boy in his arms, surrounding him, opening for him, spread out and desperate beneath him. "Of course I will."

Lance's smile is devastatingly beautiful. He tilts his head to the side; it's subtle but Keith notices it, the submission of a willing omega. _Fuck_, Keith doesn't know how he's gonna keep it together long enough to finish work and then get home and shower.

"When do you want me?"

Lance grins. "I'm gonna finish up here and then take a quick nap, maybe a shower? I need to recharge; my heat is always hard on my body. Come over around four?"

Keith nods. "I'll be there." Keith watches Lance for a couple of seconds, gaze intense. He licks his lips, watches Lance catch the movement and follow it, gaze flicking back to Keith. "Oh, and Lance?"

"Hmm?" Lance bites his lip.

"Make sure you are wearing that damn collar when I get there. I tend to bite when I knot."

Lance's face flushes a glorious shade of red and his mouth drops open in surprise at Keith's words. He lets out a keening noise, eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he struggles to keep his composure. It's worth every second to watch him fight his own nature. Keith is going to enjoy this so much.

"_Fuck_," Lance says after a moment. "I – I gotta go."

Keith's smile is almost predatory; he can feel its sharp edges. "See you soon, Lance."

The screen goes blank as Lance cuts the call. Keith will bet cash he's gone to jerk off again after the way he reacted to Keith's comment. 

Now all Keith has to do is make it through another couple of hours without spontaneously popping a boner. 

* * *

The warm water from the shower sluicing over Lance's skin is just what he needs; washing the sweat from the previous wave of his heat away, waking his body back up after his short nap. The waves are coming faster now, with little time between them for rest. Soon his body will hit peak wave, a crescendo of need that will hammer at him until he gives in to it, succumbs to nature and the instinct to be fucked until he's delirious. Fortunately for Lance, his heats have always been manageable, pleasurable experiences, although every one up until now he has spent alone. This will be the first time he's spent a heat with an alpha – with anyone, actually – and his body is going into overdrive with anticipation. There's something about Keith that is a pleasurable dichotomy; Keith both calms him, keeps him level, and at the same time sends him into a frenzy of desire that's hard to control. This is part of the reason Lance's heat kicked off early at the club, he thinks. 

Lance washes the soap from his body, tracing the flat of his palm over his abs, down his stomach past his navel. Over his lengthening cock. He's getting hard again just thinking of Keith, of what he might do to Lance when he gets here. He strokes his fingers over his erection, teasing himself, but nothing more. He wants to wait for Keith, and he knows if he lets the wave build rather than sate it, when Keith gets here it will be nothing short of explosive. He pulls his hand away with difficulty; it's tempting to keep edging himself, but he wants to be at least partly dressed and presentable when Keith does show up. 

He turns off the water, reaching for a towel, and steps out of the shower, glancing at the clock. He's got a few minutes, and he towels off and dries his hair, pulling on a pair of his favourite sweat pants. They're calf length and rest low on his hips, highlighting all of his best assets. They're also thin enough to show the outline of his cock when he doesn't wear underwear, which is the main point. When Keith arrives, Lance wants this boy in overdrive, wants him between his legs in any way he can get him and if he needs to give Keith an incentive... well, Lance isn't above begging with his body to get what he wants.

_Dammit_. Lance can feel his body heating already at the thought, and he hopes he doesn't have to wait long. He picks up the collar and buckles it on, then wanders into the kitchen, switches on the radio and finds a dance station. He needs a distraction, to move, so he lets his body take control of the music, sort of like he does on stage, but tones it down a little. He's not got anyone to impress yet, but there's a large part of him that lives to move, is simply unable _not_ to. 

_Waiting for your call_  
_Baby night and day_  
_ I'm fed up, I'm tired of waiting on you_

Lance lets out a little laugh as he pulls open the freezer door. He hasn't heard this song in forever, but it's got a good beat to it. Might be good for a short routine at the club – not a spotlight routine – but something fun to dance to on one of the less busy revue nights. He fiddles around until he finds the box of popsicles he keeps handy for his heats, pulling out one of the blue ones, unwrapping it and sucking back on it hard. _God, so good_. He kinda needs something in his mouth right _now_. Maybe the lolly isn't quite as good as Keith's cock tastes, but it mitigates the rising heat he can feel tickling at the base of his spine. He's already getting hard again and his body aches with need, deep inside him.

_Time goes by so slowly for those who wait_  
_No time to hesitate_  
_ Those who run seem to have all the fun_  
_ I'm hung up_  
_ I'm hung up on you_

Yep, never have there been truer lyrics, Lance thinks. He moves to the music, slamming the door of the freezer shut and turning around, only to find Keith standing there, watching him, his gaze heated and focused on Lance. Lance isn't sure how long he's been standing there watching, or when he keyed himself in through the front door, but honestly, Lance doesn't care. His heart beats fast, quicker as he stares at Keith. His stomach tightens pleasurably, a yearning ache cresting in his body. He can't move, frozen to the spot under his alpha's stare. 

Keith looks just as affected; even though he's leaning casually against the wall of the kitchen, just inside the door, his body is tense, like he's having trouble keeping his alpha side in check. Keith licks his lips, lets his gaze wash over Lance's body from his bare feet upward, pausing to watch as Lance's cock fills out before him. Lance would normally be embarrassed at how quickly he's getting hard, but not right now. He can feel himself lengthen against his thigh, harden under Keith's watchful gaze. By the time they make eye contact, Lance has pretty much forgotten about both the music and the Popsicle he's wasting time with, but there's a part of him – definitely his omega – that wants to see just how far it can push Keith's tentative control before he breaks.

"Hi Kitten," Lance says, expression coy. He sucks back on the popsicle, maybe a little more dramatically than he would usually, but that's the whole point. "You're late."

Keith lets out a laugh; breathy and soft, and unfolds himself from the wall he's leaning on. He walks toward Lance, all lean, muscular predator. That sends excitement racing through Lance, and despite the anticipation, he still takes a step backward until his lower back is pressed against the counter's edge.

Trapped. At Keith's mercy. 

Keith leans in, both hands planted on the counter either side of Lance's hips. Lance can feel Keith's body heat, and he lets out a little keening noise, arching toward Keith. Keith keeps enough distance to tease, clearly able to tell the proximity alone is driving Lance insane, and then he leans in to nuzzle against Lance's neck, hot breath washing over his collar and the scent glands beneath as he breaths in. Lance thinks his legs might give out on him and he has to lock his knees to stay upright. The pleasant ache between his legs becomes more intense, and he can feel his body react, getting wet at the thought of what's to come.

"Glad to see you're wearing the collar," Keith murmurs against Lance's ear. He reaches up, fingers running over the leather of the collar, brushing over Lance's skin. Keith's hand cradles Lance's head, fingers sliding into his hair, holding him in place as he brushes gentle kisses along Lance's jaw line, stopping just short of his mouth. Keith pulls back a little, a smirk on his face. "You look so pretty when you're desperate, Lance," he says.

"_Fuck_," Lance breathes out shakily. His eyes want to close, and he fights the need to give in. He doesn't want to be lost to a fog of sensation this time; he wants to remember it all, remember how this boy took him apart and put him back together as something new.

Keith places his hand gently on Lance's hip, thumb rubbing distractedly over the bone, close to where he's slightly ticklish. It makes Lance gasp, sends a frisson of ticklish heat up Lance's side that makes his stomach flip pleasantly. He turns his head enough to press delicate kisses against the corner of Keith's generous lips. Keith parts his lips, soft breaths against Lance's mouth, barely a kiss – yet. They are testing each other before they commit; letting the tension ramp up until it's unbearable, and Lance has never felt this flustered, this excited before.

Keith's hand slides around to the base of his spine, flirting with the waistband on his sweats, fingers dipping down but going no further. He pulls back just enough to lick his lips, and it's only then Lance finally remembers his melting popsicle, still in his hand. Keith looks a little dazed, and that helps Lance find his confidence again. He wants to tease Keith, loves that look on his face. He brings the popsicle up to his lips and gives it a suck, pulling back enough to tease his tongue around the top in obvious parody of what he did to Keith last night. Lance knows his eyes are alight with mischief, an echo of Blue coming to the forefront suddenly, sensual and erotic.

"Christ, you are a cocktease," Keith murmurs, "I've been at least half hard all day thinking about what you've been doing to yourself, the sounds you'd make while doing them." He takes hold of Lance's wrist and pulls it toward himself, licking over the popsicle, keeping eye contact with Lance as he drags his tongue down the length of it. Laps up the melting ice over Lance's fingers and knuckles, and then licks all the way back up again. "Hmm, tastes good."

_Okay_, so that was unexpected. Lance didn't think Keith had it in him. Eyes wide, Lance makes a little noise in the back of his throat, a yearning sort of sound that speaks of surrender; maybe not yet, but he's close. He knows Keith can hear the way Lance's breath hitches in his throat, see the way his skin flushes with color.

"You do realize that popsicle has zero nutritional value," Lance says hoarsely, watching Keith suck lightly at the ice.

"Oh?" Keith tilts his head to the side, mouthing up the popsicle. "You got something that does, then?"

"Maybe." He rolls his hips slowly against Keith's in case he misses the hint, slides his hand around Keith's waist to keep him close.

Lance is not sure who leans in first, who initiates, but in seconds they've gone from a simmer to a boil; kisses deep and searching, frantic need, tongues pushing against each other. There's no finesse, no holding back. It's not a fight for dominance; it's a desperate need to touch, to connect in any way they can. Lance's fingers dig into the meat of Keith's ass, pulling him closer, and Keith slides his hands down the back of Lance's pants, fingers dipping into the crease of his ass. This is new territory for them both; Keith had had Lance in his lap in the club, jerked him off, but he never went this far. Keith pushes his tongue into Lance's mouth with a bitten off moan at the same time he slides his fingers further down between his cheeks, stroking teasingly across Lance's hole.

Lance jerks forward against the hard planes of Keith's body, effectively, deliciously trapped, and lets out a ragged moan into Keith's mouth. _Fuck, that feels good_. He's getting wet now, his body wants Keith inside desperately and it shows. He rolls his hips backward into Keith's palm, trying to get him to slide his fingertips inside his slick heat.

"Fuck, you're wet," Keith says, stroking over Lance's asshole teasingly. "Is that just for me?"

Lance is having a hard time getting words out, but he nods, goes back to placing sucking kisses on Keith's neck, nipping hard. "Hmm, only for you. C'mon, want you in me. Can't wait much longer, Kitten." This time he rolls his hips fluidly, and the tip of Keith's finger breaches him, and he lets out a fluttery, shaky breath of relief. Lance's body is relaxed from fucking himself earlier and his body is eager and willing. Keith tucks his finger just inside Lance's rim and tugs a little, teasing. Lance melts, goes fully pliant against him, letting out a shuddering sigh. "Fuck, _yesssss_," he breathes out, rolling his hips again, pushing himself onto Keith's finger until he's knuckle deep. Lance continues to move, his body straining for more.

Keith pulls back, ignoring Lance's little whine of frustration. When he pushes Lance's sweat pants down, sliding the material over his hips, Lance lets him, realizing he's going to get what he wants. Keith wraps his hand around Lance's cock and gives it a squeeze. He strokes slowly, relearning the shape of Lance and what he likes, how he likes it. He takes Lance by the wrist again with his other hand, holding up the rapidly melting popsicle, and purrs, "I haven’t forgotten about this, you tease."

Lance has just enough sense to manage a curious eyebrow raise, but Keith's hand around his cock is very distracting. Keith feeds the popsicle into his mouth and sucks on it, smirking at Lance. "Gonna make you pay for distracting me all day, love," he promises with a wink. He pulls off the popsicle and throws the rest of it in the sink, dropping slowly to his knees. Lance watches, open mouthed with surprise. His hand drops to Keith's shoulder to chase his touch, not wanting him out of reach. Keith reaches the floor, eye level with the hard length of Lance's cock, and wraps his fingers around the base, giving it a nice stroke at the same time he flicks his tongue over the crown, chasing the pre-come beading at the tip.

Lance lets out a ragged gasp, hand scrambling at the counter top behind him as Keith takes him into his freezing cold mouth and slides down his length, wasting no time. Lance makes a noise somewhere between a shout and a moan, sharp and breathy.

"Oh fuck, Kitten, _cold_," Lance bites out, hips jerking forward at the same time the cold sends a shiver down his spine, arching his back, pushing his cock further into Keith's mouth. Lance's fingers bite into Keith's shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut and his lips parted, panting as his body twists, torn between the heat and the cold.

Keith pulls off slowly, drawing out the sensation for Lance. The cool of his mouth is almost burning as he sinks back down, and Keith looks like he's having an epiphany sucking Lance's cock, losing himself in the motions of service. He sucks as he slides back up, and Lance breaks a little, breath coming faster as the ache builds in his belly, his balls tightening up as he approaches orgasm. Lance slides a hand into Keith's hair, anchoring himself against the pleasure. 

Keith looks up and keeps eye contact, watching Lance throw his head back on a moan when Keith copies what Lance did to him in the club, sliding the crown of his cock over the roof of Keith's mouth. He slides his free hand down Lance's inner thigh, strokes his fingers back over Lance's sensitive balls, along his perineum, and to his slick hole. His finger slides in easily and Lance moans, a rich, heavy sound that heats the air. 

"Oh god," Lance bites out. "Don't stop." His body is trembling as Keith sinks in another finger, right to the second knuckle and twists his wrist, stroking into Lance's heat. Lance jerks forward into Keith's mouth, then rocks back, his body trembling, tight with the need to come. His hips tick forward mindlessly between Keith's mouth and his fingers, his ass loosening until Keith is fucking him with three fingers. Lance lets out an endless stream of pleas and curses, a constant litany of _ohgodohgod _as his body shakes. He's right on the edge, body tightening, and then –

Then Keith swallows him down as far as he can – holds there and then crooks his fingers, brushing over Lance's prostrate. Lance's body arches back, hips pushing forward, mouth open as he comes. It happens so fast he doesn't even get time to warn Keith, other than to tighten his fingers in Keith's hair. He hears Keith moan around his pulsing cock, swallowing everything Lance gives him. After a few moments, he slides his fingers gently from Lance's ass and climbs to his feet, wrapping an arm around Lance to keep him upright at the same time he pulls his sweats back up over his hips. Dazed, Lance watches him as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, tasting Lance's slick. "Fuck, you taste divine," Keith moans. "I'm so gonna eat you out later."

"Oh god, Kitten," Lance pleads. "Please, I need your cock inside me, right now."

Keith licks his lips again, leans in to nuzzle under Lance's jaw. He seems to be content to take his time now that he's got Lance's first orgasm out of the way. "You want me to fuck you? Are you gonna show me where your bedroom is? Did you nest for your heat?" 

Lance nods. "A little. I'm not one for elaborate nests."

"No?" Keith leans in for a kiss, slow and heated and Lance returns it, intoxicated with sated desire. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you if I can."

Lance leans in for another kiss. "Hmm, I want a lot of things," Lance says softly. He rests his hands on Keith's chest, fingers tightening in his shirt. "I want you in my ass," he whispers. "I want you all the way deep inside me, as deep as I can get you. Then I want you to knot me, to claim me."

"Fuck," Keith growls, and that sound has the tension in the room skyrocketing again, going from zero to sixty in under a second. "Careful what you wish for, love," he warns with a grin, and steps away playfully, giving Lance room to move. 

Room to… run?

_Oh my god._

That expression on Keith's face is going to kill Lance; a mixture of desire and mischief, daring him to run for it. Lance can't help himself; he watches Keith, watches his body tense, and then Lance moves, aiming to get past Keith and down the hallway to his bedroom. He lets out a delighted shriek, thinking he's going to slip to the side to escape, but Keith's there, two steps behind him. It's only a matter of a few abortive seconds before Keith has an arm around him, grip around his waist solid like iron, a low, sexy chuckle in his throat. Lance's heart is racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins when Keith finally has him firmly in hand and hauls him up, over his shoulder like Lance weighs nothing.

* * *

Lance thinks he might actually cry. Like, real tears of overwhelmed joy. After Keith chased him down, he'd flung Lance over his shoulder and carried him down the hallway like a struggling, overeager prize. He'd opened the door to Lance's room, pausing on the threshold before Lance nodded, urging him inside, and then he'd thrown Lance on the bed hard enough to bounce. Secure in his nest, Lance had paused, breath heaving in his chest, laughter on his lips, and then he'd slowly laid back down, arms spread out to the side, thighs open, head tipped back to bare his collared neck in total submission. Not something he thought he'd ever do for anyone; and clearly not something Keith thought he'd ever witness judging by the way his breath hitched in his throat, the way his voice cracked when he said Lance's name like he would a prayer. Keith had settled himself between Lance's legs, pulled off those damn sweatpants, and made for himself a home deep inside Lance, and oh god, Lance had no idea heat sex could ever feel like this.

Lance has come a number of times now; he's sort of lost count. Keith has somehow perfected the art of fucking Lance though orgasm – maybe it's real skill, or maybe it's Lance heat – but Keith has figured out how to edge them both through without Lance getting oversensitive. 

Keith has a generous cock. It was gorgeous up close when Lance swallowed him down in the club, but it feels overwhelming now, inside him. Keith fills him up, reaches deep, even when Lance is on his hands and knees, or like right now, when he's riding Keith hard.

"Lance, talk to me," Keith says, stroking his hand down Lance's belly and tightening his fingers around Lance's hips. "You okay?"

"Fuck, yes," Lance moans. He leans forward a little, placing his hands on Keith's chest, brushing his fingers over his nipples and getting an abortive moan and an extra hard thrust of Keith's hips for his efforts. _Fuckfuckfuck_, Lance is going to lose his mind; he can feel the head of Keith's cock nudging against the edge of his secondary entrance, teasing glances against it. All it would take was for Lance to angle his body just so…

Keith rolls his hips up like a wave, fucking Lance fluidly. His mouth is slightly parted, lips plump and swollen from Lance's kisses, his neck littered with lovebites that Lance has left; his own brand of ownership. Keith drags his cock past Lance's entrance again and this time Lance whines in frustration, angling his hips. "Please, _pleaseplease_, do it, Kitten," Lance begs breathlessly. "I want you in me, all the way."

Keith lets out a moan and his eyes flutter shut for a moment like everything is overwhelming him. When he focuses back on Lance he's stopped thrusting so hard, now he's barely moving his hips, grinding into Lance rather than fucking him. It’s the worst kind of tease and Lance _loves_ it.

"Lance, I'll come if I do that," Keith says in a rush. "I'll knot, is that what you want?" 

Lance feels the bottom drop pleasantly out of his stomach at the thought; his mouth goes dry with want and his ass clenches down hard around Keith's cock. He's never had an alpha's knot before, but right now he can think of nothing he'd rather have than Keith so deep inside him, filling him up, locking him in place. He can feel his body tremble at the thought, and his cock pulses, spilling drops of pre-come over Keith's stomach beneath him. "I want it," Lance says, making eye contact with Keith. "I've wanted it since I first saw you."

"Jesus, you are gonna kill me," Keith mutters, surging upward, dragging Lance into a bruising kiss that has both of them moaning. Then he drops back down, hands tightening around Lance's waist as he starts to fuck up into Lance again.

Lance lets Keith set the pace. His knees slide on the sheets, until he's fully impaled himself on Keith's whole length, until Keith is balls deep, rocking up into Lance's eager body. Every thrust punches a sound from Lance's throat, little _ha – ha – ha_ sounds that he can't stop from escaping. It's all he can do just to hold on, to take the fucking of a lifetime while his fingers scrabble for purchase against Keith's chest. Keith's thrusts start to change angle, using his grip on Lance's waist to pull his hips forward so he can get deeper. Instead of glancing against Lance's secondary entrance, he's pushing against it, until Lance's lax, heat-pliant body finally lets him slide home at last, pushing past the ring of muscle with minor resistance. 

And… _oh, fuck, _Lance has_ never _felt anything so overwhelmingly pleasurable, or so intense. Lance lets out a keening, desperate whine when Keith does breach him for the first time; throws his head back and takes Keith's deep, rolling thrusts like he was made for it. He _was_ made for this; his clenching, tight heat welcoming his alpha home. He comes in a blinding rush of sensation, unable to stop himself, a sobbing cry of pleasure torn from his throat.

Keith's there to catch him; he gathers Lance in his arms, rolls them until Lance is on his back, and then slides a hand down to Lance's ass for a better angle. Keith is murmuring a litany of praise in Lance's ear; _so good for me Lance, so perfect, so much pleasure, gonna make you mine._

Lance wraps his legs around Keith's hips, pulling him in deeper. "Fuck, Keith, _Kitten_, do it, please," Lance sobs. "Need you to knot me."

Keith meets Lance's eyes; a last check in. He leans down for a filthy kiss that Lance returns, all passion and biting pleasure. He's fucking Lance with intent now. Keith's breath is stuttering against Lance's neck, lips barely brushing his collar, breath hot over his scent glands beneath. Lance tilts his head back and to the side, offering himself up to his alpha, and Keith lets out a growl at the same time his hips tighten, rhythm faltering. He growls and bites down on Lance's collar; hard enough that Lance can feel the pressure through the leather against his glands. The sound Keith makes when he comes is feral, pornographic as he pushes deep and paints Lance insides with come. His rim catches on Keith's knot as it swells, and Keith pushes deeper, pressing himself inside Lance with a final hard thrust. It's too much: Lance's next orgasm rips through him and he comes again with a cry, body convinced he's been claimed for a moment, the bite pushing him over the edge along with the intense sensation of being filled so completely by Keith's swelling knot.

Lance loses a few moments to the overwhelming sensation of being knotted for the first time; when he blinks his eyes again, he's sitting in Keith's lap. Keith is leaning against the back of Lance's nest, holding Lance close, nuzzling into his neck. Keith's knot is still firmly engaged; he's rocking inside Lance, gentle movements that sends shockwaves of heat up Lance's spine. Not enough to come again – his body is finally sated for a while – but intensely pleasurable all the same.

"Hey," Keith says gently when he feels Lance shift.

"Hey back," Lance replies with a grin. He pulls back enough to watch Keith for a moment, to lean in for a slow, deep kiss.

"You okay?" Keith asks, stroking his hand soothingly down Lance's back. "You worried me a little when you passed out."

Lance giggles softly – not a sound he'd usually make – but then again, Keith has just fucked him silly. "Didn't expect that to happen," Lance admits. "It was overwhelming." He slides his hand over Keith's shoulder, stroking over the myriad lovebites scattered over Keith's pale skin, and then cups the back of Keith's head, sliding his fingers through the thick strands of his hair. "Thank you for helping me with this," Lance says finally.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to do this." Keith looks like he wants to say more, but doesn't. Instead he leans in, content to distract Lance with another one of those deep, exploratory kisses that makes Lance's head spin. "But…" he says a few moments later, licking his lips, "if you really wanted to thank me you could always drop by work and bring me a coffee some time."

Lance laughs; hard enough to make himself wince around the fullness in his ass. "A coffee, Kitten? Or are you trying to temp me with another ride on that bike of yours?"

Keith bounces Lance in his lap a little, making Lance gasp as shocks of pleasure rush through him. "You like my hoverbike better, huh?"

"Hmmm." Lance makes a show of thinking it over. He rolls his hips a little. "I don't know. Maybe you take me for another ride in a few minutes and I can compare notes?"

Keith narrows his eyes, contemplating Lance carefully, a smile pulling at his mouth. He lets out a little growl and flips them over, until Lance is underneath him again. "Deal. Let's see what you got, Blue."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as Caeseria if you want to pop by, and on twitter as Caeseria_nsfw ;)


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